


Scrambled

by Izcana



Series: 12 Days of Newtmas [3]
Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: 12 Days of Newtmas, 12 Days of Newtmas 2020, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Breakfast in Bed, Day 3, Established Relationship, Fluff, I know I'm late to my own event, I tried at least, I'm Sorry, M/M, Mentioned Character Death, POV First Person, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, established newtmas, lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:54:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28542864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Izcana/pseuds/Izcana
Summary: I woke up to Thomas' peaceful frame next to me, snoring softly. A drop of drool was dripping onto the pillow that supported his disoriented face.It wouldn't last long.I didn't wake him, knowing by now that it was better if he got to sleep in today. It distracted him from bad thoughts.
Relationships: Newt/Thomas (Maze Runner)
Series: 12 Days of Newtmas [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2077020
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7
Collections: 12 Days of Newtmas 2020, Pieces of Newtmas





	Scrambled

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NeverConformEver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverConformEver/gifts).



> 12 Days of Newtmas Day 3: Breakfast in bed
> 
> This one's not my best attempt, but I had to get it out there :)

I woke up to Thomas' peaceful frame next to me, snoring softly. A drop of drool was dripping onto the pillow that supported his disoriented face.

It wouldn't last long.

I didn't wake him, knowing by now that it was better if he got to sleep in today. It distracted him from bad thoughts.

Despite the drool, I found myself mesmerised at how beautiful the man I call my boyfriend was, how his soft, brown hair, pouty, rosy lips, and pretty, liquid amber eyes made him looked like a puppy begging for treats. 

His eyes were pure amber, and he had gleaming drops of green, hazel, and grey mixed just right with the golden syrup that I pour excessively onto my pancakes, which Tommy often comments on ("Newt, we are going to go _broke_ soon if you keep devouring maple syrup like that! _Broke_!"). His brown hair was a chocolate coloured cloud that floated wherever he went, and I would ruffle it whenever it was made messy by the wind. His lips, though...let's just say that it's a true _pleasure_ to kiss them.

His looks didn't always work to his favour; I remember when Alby hired him for the café, he glanced at Tommy suspiciously and asked him "Are you 20 years old? You look about 16, kid, no offence."

Newt had to stifle a laugh at that, which he totally failed at, and that's how Thomas first noticed him.

Despite what Thomas said, he _totally_ spilt the coffee after seeing my smirk. He totally did.

I shifted my weight to the left side of the bed slightly, making sure I didn't wake Tommy. I draped my portion of the blanket on his shoulders, kissing his temple when he only let out a soft snuffle in reply. He's too cute, really.

It's not just about how he looks, too. He helps the old ladies cross the street, and when Chuck's cat got stuck in a tree, he was the first to volunteer and climb up to rescue her. It was the expression he had when he served college students their coffee, and when a little kid fell on the sidewalk and scrapes their knee, Tommy's the first to offer a bandage and delivers them to their parents.

That's why I was so infatuated then, and I still am, now.

I toed on some socks quietly, and tip-toed my way to the kitchen, throwing on a warm jumper. It was fuzzy and warm and smelt of Thomas. I rubbed my hands together; we should've fixed the heater _ages_ ago, but we forgot to, and besides, it's not the time to do it, anyway.

_Not today._

* * *

As I gathered the pots and pans I usually used to make breakfast, I debated with myself about what I should make. I could technically make a bunch of breakfast brunch, but that wouldn't be sensible, seeing that Thomas would be in a horrid mood today, all stuffy nose and tear tracks. I didn't blame him; on the contrary, I usually had today off to comfort him, and we'd watch The Hunger Games together.

I decided to go with some toast, making sure to butter the pan up before putting the toast into heat. It was simple and convenient, and it didn't take long to eat. I'd learnt from experience that Tommy wasn't the type to go for big breakfasts, seeing that he could _not_ stay still, and he liked to move while he ate, which made a small, easy-to-carry meal the best option.

"Scrambled eggs," I muttered under my breath. _Eggs!_

I scrambled (get it? no?) for the egg carton before the pan overheated, almost cracking the only egg we had on the smooth, cold marble floor. I caught it in time, though, rubbing at the small piece that cracked off. It would have to do, then; it was our last egg. I should've gone grocery shopping, but I didn't, and we don't have eggs now. Great.

I went through all the motions of making eggs monotonously, my mind drifting far away from where one of my hands were holding the handle of the frying pan steadily. 

_Tommy would be upset today...what should I do to make him feel better? He says that the breakfast in bed thing works, but maybe he should go hang out with Minho so they can go on a run together? Wait, but that wouldn't be good, since it was Tommy's mum who first got him into running...or, maybe we can go and take a walk in the park or something...wait, his dad used to take him to the park...wait, aren't you supposed to do things that remind you of the deceased instead of forgetting about them and avoiding the things you used to do with them?_

I groaned; I was making this was _way_ too complicated.

"Newt?" Tommy's small voice murmured. "What are you doing here?"

I almost dropped the pan in my scare, the tissue paper I was clutching in my other hand hitting the floor with a pale thud. 

"Morning, Tommy," I said, ignoring the shakiness in my voice. "I'm cooking, just a second."

I knew Thomas well enough by then to know that he was smiling weakly as he said: "Okay, I'll give you two."

I chuckled, but we both knew it was weak. Today was a sombre day.

**Author's Note:**

> **Visit my other sites:**
> 
> Tumblr Blog: <https://izcana.tumblr.com>  
> 12 Days of Newtmas Event blog: <https://12daysofnewtmas.tumblr.com>  
> Prompt me: [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.qa/Izcana) or [my prompt form](https://bit.ly/izcanaPROMPTFORM)  
> Other sites here: <https://izcana.tumblr.com/othersites>
> 
> My Twitter: <https://twitter.com/izcana>  
> My Discord: Izcana#4446  
> My Pinterest: [@Izcana_](https://www.pinterest.com/Izcana_/_saved/)  
> My Email: izcana.sites@gmail.com


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